Servitude

John opened his eyes to find himself in a dark and musty carriage, his head throbbing with a dull ache. He had no idea how much time had passed since he had been sedated, but he knew he was no longer in the slave market where he had been sold.

As he tried to sit up, he was confronted by a gruff, greying man with a bulky, muscular build. The man was wearing a general's uniform, adorned with multiple accolades on his lapel. He looked to be about 6'7, with war scars crisscrossing his face.

"Who are you?" John asked, trying to steady himself on the shaking carriage.

"I am General Marcus Willytaker III," the man replied in a deep, gravelly voice, his face stiff and emotionless. "I saw something in your eyes when that brute Jesubamiro taunted you with rage. I bought you because I believe you could be useful to me."

John was taken aback by the general's blunt and matter-of-fact attitude. He had never been treated with such indifference before, especially by someone of such high standing. "I see," he said quietly. "And what is it you expect of me, sir?"

"I expect you to do as you're told and follow orders without question," the general replied, his voice devoid of any warmth. "If you do that, you may find a place in my army. But make no mistake, John, I have no time for disobedience or insubordination. Do you understand?"

John nodded, feeling a sense of dread wash over him. He had always dreamed of escaping slavery and making something of himself, but he never thought it would be under such harsh and demanding circumstances. "Yes, sir," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Good," the general replied, his face still stiff and emotionless. "Now let's get you cleaned up and prepared for your duties. We have a lot of work to do."

John was led to a small room where he was given a bucket of water and a cloth to wash himself with. He did as he was told, scrubbing himself clean and trying to shake off the feeling of dread that had settled in his stomach.

After he was finished, he was given a set of clothes and a pair of boots to wear. They were rough and uncomfortable, but John was grateful for the change of attire. He had been wearing the same ragged clothes for as long as he lost to the trio, and the feel of something new on his skin was invigorating.

Once he was dressed, John was led to a training ground where he was introduced to the other soldiers. They were a rough and rugged group, with scars and battle wounds marking their faces and bodies. But despite their rough exterior, John could sense a sense of camaraderie among them.

After being introduced to the other soldiers, John began his training in earnest. He was assigned to work with General Willytaker himself, who was known to be an expert swordsman. John was a quick learner, but he struggled to keep up with the general's speed and skill. Each time they sparred, Marcus seemed to effortlessly best John, knocking the wooden sword out of his hand again and again.

Despite his struggles, John refused to give up. He was determined to prove himself and earn a place in the army, no matter how difficult the task may be. He continued to train day after day, pushing himself to the limits of his endurance.

As they sparred one day, John's frustration and determination reached a boiling point. He was tired of being beaten by Marcus, and he was determined to prove himself once and for all. As he swung his sword at the general, he felt a surge of emotion welling up inside him.

To everyone's surprise, a blue light began to swirl around John's hand, forming a small, fragmented dagger. John used the dagger to break Marcus's sword, and the general was left standing before him, his sword in pieces at his feet.

The other soldiers watched in stunned silence as Marcus stared at John in shock. "How did you do that?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

John shook his head, just as surprised as Marcus. "I don't know," he said, his voice filled with awe. "It just happened. It comes when I'm feeling highly emotional. I've only used it once before to fight spirits."

The other soldiers looked at John with a mix of amazement and fear. They had never seen anything like this before, and they didn't know what to make of it. John, for his part, was just as bewildered as they were. He had no idea where this newfound power had come from, or how he could control it.

But one thing was clear: John had proven himself to be a formidable warrior, despite his lack of skill with a sword. Marcus knew that he had found someone truly special in John, and he vowed to do whatever it took to help him harness and control his unique abilities.

After impressing General Willytaker with his unique abilities, John was given more responsibility and higher-level training. He was put through his paces, pushing himself to the limits of his endurance and learning all the skills that a soldier in Marcus's army needed to know.

.

After months of training, John was challenged to a sparring match by an apprentice knight named Kiaf. Kiaf was a short but fierce warrior, known for his lightning-fast reflexes and skill with a sword. He had been adopted by one of the maids working for Marcus's estate, and he had been training to become a knight ever since he was a child.

"Come on, Kiaf!" one of the guards shouted as the two warriors faced off. "Show us what you've got!"

The apprentice knight nodded, his sword drawn and ready. "I'll give it my all," he replied, his voice filled with determination.

The two warriors faced off, their swords clashing as they fought with all their might. John struggled to keep up with Kiaf's speed and skill, but he refused to give up. He gritted his teeth and pushed himself harder, determined to prove himself.

As the fight wore on, John began to feel a surge of emotion welling up inside him. He had always struggled to control his emotions, but now he could feel them fueling his strength and determination.

To everyone's surprise, a blue light began to swirl around John's hand, forming a brilliant dagger that shimmered in the sunlight. John had used this power before, during his training with Marcus, and he used it again to fight Kiaf. The apprentice knight was left standing before him, his sword in pieces at his feet.

"Cheater!" someone shouted from the sidelines. "He's using magic to win!"

The other guards turned to see who had spoken out, and they saw a burly, scowling man with a scarred face. "Shut your mouth, Timmins," one of them said, his voice filled with anger. "John's not cheating. He's just using his own skills and abilities to win. Everybody knows that a duel is a free for all. Theres no such thing as cheating in a battlefield."

"Yeah," another guard chimed in. "Leave him alone, or you'll have to deal with all of us."

Timmins sneered at the other guards, but he knew he was outnumbered. Grumbling to himself, he stormed off, his reputation as a troublemaker preceding him.

John watched the scene unfold with a mix of surprise and gratitude. He had never had anyone stand up for him like that before, and it touched him to know that the other guards saw him as one of their own.

After defeating Kiaf in the sparring match, John was hailed as a hero among the other soldiers. They had seen him use his unique abilities to emerge victorious, and they knew that he was a formidable warrior.

As John basked in the glow of his victory, Marcus approached him with a blank expression on his face. "Well done," he said, clapping him on the back. "You have proven yourself to be a worthy warrior, and I am proud to have you in my army."

"Thank you, sir," John replied, feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment wash over him.

"I have a special mission for you," Marcus continued, his voice devoid of any emotion. "We are preparing for an expedition to Tartarus, a land of darkness and danger. I want you to be a part of it."

John's eyes widened in surprise. Tartarus was known to be a treacherous place, filled with all manner of dangers and beasts. It was a place that only the bravest and most skilled warriors ventured to, and John knew that it would be a test of his mettle.

"Yes, sir," he said, his voice filled with determination. "I will do my best."

"I know you will," Marcus replied, his face still blank and emotionless. "I have faith in you, John. You have the potential to be a great warrior."

.

After defeating Kiaf in the sparring match, John returned to his room feeling a mix of pride and exhaustion. He had proven himself to be a worthy warrior, but the victory felt hollow without anyone to share it with.

John sat down on his bed and let out a sigh, his thoughts drifting to the past. He remembered the slave auction where he had been sold, and the face of the woman he had adventured, cried and loved with: Aria. She had been sold to a different buyer, and John had no idea where she was or if she was even still alive.

Tears welled up in John's eyes as he thought about the pain and loneliness of being separated from the one person who had meant everything to him. He had always tried to keep a strong face and hide his emotions behind a mask, but now the mask had come off and he was wallowing in despair.

John knew that he couldn't go on like this. He had to find a way to escape this life and find Aria. He made a vow to himself to do whatever it took to be reunited with the woman he was attached to.... and perhaps loved.